Forever Changed

Each week when I sit down with George’s Teachings Tuesday, I find myself pausing to take in the depth of what he shares. His words always bring me back to the truths that live just beneath the surface of our daily lives—truths that are easy to overlook if we are not intentional about seeing them.

Today, on Orange Shirt Day and the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, George reflects on the meaning of visibility. He reminds us that orange is more than a colour—it is a way of drawing attention, of ensuring that what might otherwise be hidden is seen and acknowledged. His teaching is a powerful reminder that the impacts of residential and day schools are not something of the past. They live on in families, in communities, and in the ongoing work of healing.

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Orange is often used in high visibility gear. It is meant to draw our attention, to make sure that those wearing it are seen and protected. I notice this when I see the construction workers here in Stz’uminus who are building our new water system. They wear bright orange coats and vests so that we can see them and avoid causing harm. It feels very fitting that the shirt Phyllis Webstad wore all those years ago was orange. The orange shirts we wear today bring attention to truths that were hidden for far too long. They remind us that the pain of residential schools did not end when the doors closed. We are still helping our elders and families heal from the harms that were forced upon them, and we carry the responsibility to make these truths visible so that every child is seen, valued, and safe.

As we mark Orange Shirt Day and the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, I am thinking about my own family and the ways this history lives with us every day. My father, George Harris Sr., is a residential school survivor, and my late mother, Sylvia Harris, was a day school survivor. Both carried the weight of those experiences, and that weight shaped our family and our community in lasting ways. When I think about Orange Shirt Day, I do not only think about the children who never returned home, I also think about the children who did return but were forever changed. Their pain was carried into their homes, their parenting, and their relationships. That pain did not end with them, it was passed down to us, their children and grandchildren.

For me, Orange Shirt Day is a time to remember and honour my parents, as well as all the children who endured the harms of residential and day schools. It is a time to hold space for the grief of what was taken away, but also to celebrate the strength that has carried us forward. The very fact that I can stand here today and share my teachings, my stories, and my traditional name, Wholwolet’za, is a testament to that resilience. Despite everything that was done to erase our identity, our people have held onto our languages, our ceremonies, and our teachings. That strength is something I carry with me in every part of my life and work.

When I think about reconciliation, I think about the healing I have had to do in my own journey, and the healing I see my community doing together. Reconciliation is not just a government policy or a national day, it is deeply personal. It is about how we treat one another, how we create spaces for our stories, and how we make sure the next generation grows up proud of who they are and where they come from.

As you wear orange today, I invite you to think about the families behind the shirts, the names behind the numbers, and the stories behind the history. Every child matters, and for me, that means making sure our children and grandchildren know who they are and where they come from, and that they can walk proudly in both worlds. It means ensuring that Indigenous children everywhere have the right to grow up loved, safe, and connected to their community and culture.

I believe it is important to wear our orange shirts all year round. I hope this issue is thought of more than just one day a year, because these hardships are something our Indigenous communities live with every day. So I encourage each of you to wear your orange shirts, be visible, and wear them with pride.

This work is not easy, and sometimes it is painful. But it is also full of hope. By listening, learning, and walking together, we honour those who came before us and we build a future where every child is truly valued. That is the teaching I carry with me on Orange Shirt Day and beyond.

Huy ch q’u | Thank you

Wholwolet’za | George Harris Jr.

What stays with me from George’s teaching is his reminder that Indigenous Peoples live with and work to heal from these truths every single day. It makes me think about what it means, for me, to carry recognition beyond today. I don’t want my orange shirt to be something I pull out once a year—I want it to remind me, on all the other days too, that every child matters and that these truths must continue to be seen.

🧡 Kim